Their Lives
by textbomb
Summary: A collection of drabbles/short stories written from time to time. Usually Altair/Malik, maybe other pairings as well.
1. Arrow

_**Note**__: This is actually more of practice writing if anything ;-; I've recently wanted to start writing stories/fics and whatnot, so here they are ;_; I apologize if they suck! Of course I'll be trying to develop my writing skills, and this is one way of doing so I guess  
I'll be posting whatever I write on this that I find remotely good from time to time, AC related ofc, so enjoy (I hope)!_

* * *

**Arrow**

The sharp sensation of pain struck his arm as his partner tended to the wound. He had an arrow struck through him, already removed by the other.  
"Please be more careful for now, as I am running out of supplies. Keep yourself from getting severely hurt until I go out to buy everything." The nonchalant voice spoke, idly dressing the younger man's wound. It clearly was not the first time, with Altair's tendency to run on the rooftops to provoke the guards, and Malik always needing to pull whatever it was that was stuck in Altair's body. Only Allah knows how the one-armed rafiq is able to skillfully complete these tasks with such ease.  
"Oh, Malik. You must already know I only put myself in danger to get the feel of your loving, tender hand."  
Malik sneered. "Quite the charmer you are, Altair. I'm surprised I haven't jumped on you by now."  
A chuckle came from the injured man, quickly wincing in pain as Malik finished with the bandaging. He quickly gathered everything and went back to his desk with the remaining supplies.

Altair gently laid back on the pillows, fully supporting him. "…Well, how about now? I'm able and ready, and already half undressed."  
An empty inkpot was thrown in his general direction, clearly indicating that Malik was in no mood for such words. Or any of his words, for that matter. Altair smiled and slowly drifted off, dreaming of a much more lust-driven Malik.

"Not even in your dreams, Novice."


	2. Hysteria

**Hysteria **

* * *

The feeling of alarm overtook him, once he realized the amount of guards surrounding him. Even with Death fighting alongside with him, he would not be able to take these many at once.  
_What have I gotten myself into...?  
_Altair winced at the slash the guard behind him made on his leg, faltering slightly. He swiftly dodged another attack, hacking his sword into the shoulder the guard and leaving them on the ground.  
They kept coming, as if coming to replace the ones that Altair had already taken down. He kept fighting, feeling every infliction of pain grow stronger and stronger on his weakening body.  
The last few guards remained, Altair nearly kneeling on the ground and shifting most of his weight onto his sword. "Malik…" He tried calling out, voice raspy and not being able to muster up more than a whisper. A hooded figure soon came, as if responding to Altair's call of help.  
_Malik… It must be him… _The rest of the guards were taken down, the figure quickly rushing to the man that now lay on the ground, severely injured as result of the ambush.  
"Brother, it is alright. The guards have been taken down, and you are safe now. Such an attack on a single soul would have killed a man. You are very strong indeed." Altair had realized the man was not Malik, but one of the others from their Creed. Altair looked away, selfishly wishing for the sight and touch of the man he had hurt so much.


	3. Summer

**Summer**

* * *

The hazy midsummer afternoon went by slow; they lied in the grass motionless, staring up to the sky. His hand twitched to get a touch of the other laying beside him, barely reaching. Looking over, Altair's eyes were lost in a dream of his own, half-lidded and barely focused. A slight smile came upon him, and disappeared in a second. He has not been this content in a while.  
His eyes closed, the feel of Malik's hand still lingering on his own.


	4. A Date

**A Date**

* * *

The faint smell of aftershave invaded his nostrils, leaving a changed expression on his face. _I don't recall putting on aftershave_, Malik thought to himself, clearly confused. _Do I even own any?_ The scent of cologne mixed with the previous smell, creating an even stronger effect.  
Malik tossed around a bit, still reluctant to open his eyes due to sleep still having a hold of him. It had only been an hour since he went to bed, passing out once he hit the sheets. The amount of work always awaiting him at home left him spending his nights awake until sunrise. It certainly wasn't a healthy way to live, but work was work.

"Is anyone there?" he called out, sounding slurred. He doesn't know why, but an odd sense of safety had blanketed him, regardless of the possibility of being near death's grasp. _I knew my life well, and I shall end it in my sleep. Eternal slumber will do me some good._  
_  
_"Malik." The unknown being spoke, pronouncing his name with such ease. He doesn't know how many times and combinations of his name people have used in the years he's been alive, but this is the best he's heard, beside his mother, of course. Though, his name was nowhere near being in the category of impossibly difficult to say, but he'd like to think so.  
Malik kept shifting around in his bed, unwilling to respond and do nothing more than drift off to sleep.  
A few minutes passed by, with no sound coming from either person.

"Altair."  
He finally gave in, knowing the man wouldn't leave anytime soon.

"Malik."  
Altair spoke, using the same flawless pronunciation as before.

"Why."

"A date. We have to leave soon."  
Malik groaned, uninterested in whatever Altair has for him. It's fucking _nine_ _in the morning_. Who goes out on a date at this hour? Fucking teenagers, that's who.  
"I refuse. I don't recall planning anything with you."  
Altair leaned over the still dormant man, the same scent of cologne and aftershave growing stronger in Malik's nose. Stern gold eyes soon stared straight into Malik's rather dull, charcoal eyes.

This is going to be a long day.


End file.
